“Look, I’m a dog,” I tell mommy. “I am just like Aggie!” Aggie sniffs around her new home. I sniff around too. Aggie sniffs the couch. I sniff the couch, too. She sniffs the rug. I sniff the rug, too. Aggie finds Daddy’s shoes. “No, no, Aggie. That is not a toy for you!” I say. Aggie goes into the kitchen. She jumps up to the counter. I jump up to the counter, too. “Down, Aggie,” Mommy says. “This snack is not for you.” Aggie goes into the laundry room. I go, too. She jumps into the dryer. “No, Aggie,” I say. “That is not a bed for you.” Aggie goes into the bathroom. I go into the bathroom, too. Aggie sees the toilet. I am done being a dog. I get a ball. “Here is your new toy,” I say. I toss it high. Aggie runs fast! I get a treat. “This is a snack for you,” I say. Aggie eats it. I get a bowl. “This is water for you,” I say. Aggie licks the water. Her ears get wet, too. “And you can sleep with me,” I tell her. Aggie is happy. She wags her tail. Just like Aggie, I am happy too.